It is necessary to clarify this characterization. The term "petty-bourgeois" I employ not in its everyday sense, but in its political-economic meaning. A small producer managing his affairs within a system of commodity production – these are the two features constituting the concept of "petty bourgeoisie," Kleinbürger or, what amounts to the same thing, a person of petty-bourgeois status. Under this heading fall the peasant and the artisan, whom the Populists always placed on the same footing – and quite justifiably so, since both represent such producers working for the market, and differ only in the degree of development of commodity production. Furthermore, I distinguish old[185] and contemporary Populism on the grounds that the former was to some extent a coherent doctrine, which took shape in an epoch when capitalism in Russia was still very weakly developed, when the petty-bourgeois character of peasant economy had not yet manifested itself at all, when the practical side of the doctrine was sheer utopia, when the Populists sharply distanced themselves from the liberal "society" and "went to the people." Now it is different: the capitalist path of Russia's development is denied by no one anymore, the decomposition of the countryside is an undisputed fact. Of the coherent doctrine of Populism with its childlike faith in the "commune," only tatters remain. On the practical side – in place of utopia there has emerged not at all a utopian program of petty-bourgeois "progress," and only grandiose phrases remind us of the historical connection between these pathetic compromises and dreams of better and distinctive paths for our country. Instead of separation from liberal society, we see the most touching rapprochement with it. This very change compels us to distinguish the ideology of the peasantry from the ideology of the petty bourgeoisie.

This correction regarding the actual content of Populism seemed all the more necessary because the aforementioned abstractness of Mr. Struve's exposition is his principal defect; this, in the first place. And in the second place, "certain fundamental" propositions of that doctrine, to which Mr. Struve is not bound, require precisely the reduction of social ideas to socio-economic relations.

And we shall now endeavor to show that without such reduction, one cannot even elucidate purely theoretical ideas of Populism, such as the question of method in sociology.

Having noted that the Populist doctrine concerning a special method in sociology is most ably expounded by Messrs. Mirto and Mikhailovsky, Mr. Struve characterizes this doctrine as "subjective idealism" and in confirmation thereof cites from the works of the aforementioned persons a series of passages worthy of attention.

Both authors place at the cornerstone the proposition that history was made by "solitary struggling personalities." "Personalities create history" (Mirto). Even more clearly in Mr. Mikhailovsky: "The living personality, with all its thoughts and feelings, becomes an agent of history on its own responsibility. It, and not some mystical force, sets goals in history and moves events toward them through the array of obstacles posed to it by the elemental forces of nature and historical conditions" (8). This proposition – that personalities make history – is theoretically wholly devoid of content. History consists entirely of the actions of personalities, and the task of social science consists in explaining these actions, so that the reference to "the right to interfere in the course of events" (words of Mr. Mikhailovsky, cited by Mr. Struve, p. 8) – reduces itself to empty tautology. This becomes particularly evident in the final tirade of Mr. Mikhailovsky. The living personality, he reasons, moves events through an array of obstacles posed by the elemental forces of historical conditions. But in what do these "historical conditions" consist? According to the author's logic, again and again, in the actions of other "living personalities." Is this not marvelous philosophy of history: a living personality moves events through an array of obstacles posed by other living personalities! And why is it that the actions of some living personalities are called elemental, while of others it is said that they "move events" toward pre-established goals? It is clear that to seek any theoretical content here would be an enterprise scarcely less than hopeless. The whole matter is that those historical conditions, which furnished our subjectivists with material for their "theory," represented (as they represent now) antagonistic relations, they engendered the expropriation of the producer. Unable to understand these antagonistic relations, unable to find within them such social elements to which the "solitary personalities" might attach themselves, the subjectivists confined themselves to the invention of theories that consoled these "solitary" personalities by assuring them that history was made by "living personalities." The celebrated "subjective method in sociology" expresses decidedly nothing but good intentions and poor understanding. The further argument of Mr. Mikhailovsky, adduced by the author, manifestly confirms this.

European life, says Mr. Mikhailovsky, "developed as senselessly and immorally as a river flows in nature or a tree grows. A river flows in the direction of least resistance, washes away what it can wash away, be it a diamond mine, and flows around what it cannot wash away, be it a dung heap. Sluices, dams, bypass and diversion channels are constructed on the initiative of human reason and feeling. This reason and this feeling, one might say, were not present (? P.S.) at the origin of the modern economic order in Europe. They were in an embryonic state, and their influence on the natural, elemental course of things was negligible" (9).

Mr. Struve placed a question mark, and we are baffled as to why he placed it only at one word, and not at all of them: so devoid of all content is this entire tirade! What sort of nonsense is this, that reason and feeling were not present at the origin of capitalism? What does capitalism consist in, if not in certain relations between people, and we have not yet known people without reason and feeling. And what is this falsity, that the influence of reason and feeling of those "living personalities" of the time on the "course of things" was "negligible"? Quite the contrary. People then, in their right mind and sound memory, devised extraordinarily ingenious sluices and dams that drove the unruly peasant into the channel of capitalist exploitation; they created extraordinarily cunning bypass channels of political and financial measures, through which (channels) capitalist accumulation and capitalist expropriation rushed forth, unsatisfied by the action of economic laws alone. In short, all these declarations of Mr. Mikhailovsky are so monstrous false that they cannot be explained by theoretical errors alone. They are fully explained by that petty-bourgeois perspective upon which this writer stands. Capitalism has already revealed quite clearly its tendencies, it has developed its inherent antagonism to the end, the contradiction of interests has begun to assume definite forms, reflecting itself even in Russian legislation – but the small producer stands aside from this struggle. He is still bound to the old bourgeois society by his tiny economy and therefore, while oppressed by the capitalist order, he is unable to understand the true causes of his oppression and continues to console himself with illusions, that all the evils are because the reason and feeling of people are still "in an embryonic state."

"Of course," continues the ideologist of this petty bourgeoisie, "people have always striven in one way or another to influence the course of things."

The "course of things" consists precisely in the actions and "influences" of people and nothing else, so this is again an empty phrase.

"But they were guided in this by the indications of the most meager experience and the most crude interests; and it is understandable that only in the rarest of instances could these guides happen upon the path indicated by modern science and modern moral ideas" (9).

Petty-bourgeois morality, condemning the "crudeness of interests" from inability to bring its "ideals" into alignment with any pressing needs; petty-bourgeois closing of eyes to the split that has already occurred, brightly reflected both in modern science and in modern moral ideas.

It is understandable that all these properties of Mr. Mikhailovsky's arguments remain unchanged even when he turns to Russia. He "welcomes from his whole heart" the equally strange tales of a certain Mr. Yakovlev, that Russia is a tabula rasa[186], that it can begin anew, avoid the mistakes of other countries, and so forth and so on. And all this is said in full awareness of the fact that on this tabula rasa the representatives of the "old-noble" order hold quite firmly, with large landed property and enormous political privileges, that upon it capitalism is growing rapidly, with all its various "progressivisms." The petty bourgeois fearfully closes his eyes to these facts and retreats into the realm of innocent daydreams about how "we now begin to live, when science already possesses some truths and some authority."

Thus, even from those arguments of Mr. Mikhailovsky which are cited by Mr. Struve, the class origin of the sociological ideas of Populism is evident.

We cannot leave unanswered one observation of Mr. Struve against Mr. Mikhailovsky. "According to his view," says the author, "there do not exist insurmountable historical tendencies, which, as such, ought to serve, on the one hand, as the starting point, and on the other as the obligatory limits for the purposive activity of the personality and social groups" (11).

This is the language of the objectivist, not the Marxist (materialist). Between these concepts (systems of views) there is a difference, which merits attention, since the incomplete elucidation of this difference belongs to the fundamental defect of Mr. Struve's book, manifesting itself in the majority of his arguments.

The objectivist speaks of the necessity of a given historical process; the materialist establishes with precision the given socio-economic formation and the antagonistic relations it engenders. The objectivist, in proving the necessity of a given series of facts, always risks sliding into the viewpoint of an apologist for these facts; the materialist lays bare class contradictions and thereby determines his own viewpoint. The objectivist speaks of "insurmountable historical tendencies"; the materialist speaks of which class "conducts" the given economic order, creating such-and-such forms of resistance by other classes. Thus, the materialist is, on the one hand, more consistent than the objectivist and penetrates his objectivism more deeply and completely. He does not limit himself to pointing to the necessity of the process, but clarifies which precisely socio-economic formation gives content to this process, which precisely class determines this necessity. In the given case, for example, the materialist would not be satisfied with establishing "insurmountable historical tendencies," but would point to the existence of certain classes determining the content of the given order and excluding the possibility of escape except through the appearance of the producers themselves. On the other hand, materialism includes, so to speak, partisanship, obliging one, in every evaluation of an event, to stand directly and openly on the side of a definite social group[187].

From Mr. Mikhailovsky, the author proceeds to Mr. Yuzhakov, who presents nothing independent or interesting. Mr. Struve quite rightly remarks of his sociological arguments that they are "grandiose words," "devoid of all content." It is worth dwelling on an extraordinarily characteristic (for Populism generally) distinction between Mr. Yuzhakov and Mr. Mikhailovsky. Mr. Struve notes this distinction, calling Mr. Yuzhakov a "nationalist," whereas Mr. Mikhailovsky, he says, was "always completely alien to all nationalism," and for him, by his own words, "the question of folk justice encompasses not only the Russian people, but the entire toiling multitude of the entire civilized world." It seems to me that behind this distinction there appears another reflection of the dual position of the small producer, who is a progressive element insofar as he begins, by the unconsciously felicitous expression of Mr. Yuzhakov, to "differentiate himself from society," – and a reactionary element insofar as he struggles for the preservation of his position as a small proprietor, and attempts to retard economic development. Therefore Russian Populism is able to combine the progressive, democratic features of the doctrine – with reactionary ones, evoking sympathy from "Moskovskiye Vedomosti"{96}. As for the latter, it would be difficult, one might say, to express them more strikingly than Mr. Yuzhakov did in the following tirade, cited by Mr. Struve.

"Only the peasantry has always and everywhere been the bearer of the pure idea of labor. Apparently, this same idea was brought onto the arena of modern history by the so-called fourth estate, the urban proletariat, but the transformations undergone by its essence are so significant that a peasant would scarcely recognize in it the ordinary foundation of his way of life. The right to labor, and not the holy obligation of labor, the obligation to earn one's bread by the sweat of one's brow [so that is what lay hidden behind the "pure idea of labor"! A purely serf-owning idea of the "obligation" of the peasant to earn bread… for the fulfillment of his obligations? It is of this "holy" obligation that people speak to a beaten-down and crushed beast of burden!![188]]; then, the differentiation of labor and remuneration for it, all this agitation about just remuneration for labor, as if labor itself in its fruits does not create this remuneration [What is this?" asks Mr. Struve, – "sancta simplicitas[189] or something else?" Worse. This is – an apotheosis of the obedience of a laborer bound to the land, accustomed to work for others almost for nothing]; the differentiation of labor from life into some abstract (? P.S.) category, represented by so many hours spent at the factory, having no other (? P.S.) relation, no connection with the worker's everyday interests [purely petty-bourgeois cowardice of the small producer, who sometimes fares very, very poorly from the modern capitalist organization, but who fears nothing on earth more than serious movement against this organization from elements finally "differentiated" from all connection with it]; finally, the absence of settledness, a home created by labor, the changeability of the sphere of labor – all this is completely alien to the idea of peasant labor. The labor, bequeathed from fathers and grandfathers, the hearth, labor permeating all of one's life with its interests and building its morality – love for the field watered by the sweat of many generations – all this, constituting an inseparable distinguishing feature of peasant life, is completely unknown to the working proletariat, and therefore, whereas the life of the latter, although laborious, is built on bourgeois (individualistic and based on the principle of acquired right) morality, or at best on abstract-philosophical morality, the basis of peasant morality lies precisely in labor, its logic, its demands" (18). Here appear in their purest form the reactionary features of the small producer, his beatenness, which forces him to believe that he is eternally destined for the "holy obligation" of being a beast of burden; his "bequeathed from fathers and grandfathers" servility; his attachment to a tiny separate economy, the fear of losing which compels him to renounce even any thought of "just remuneration" and appear as an enemy of all "agitation," – which, owing to the low productivity of labor and the tying of the laborer to one place, makes him a savage and, by force of economic conditions alone, necessarily engenders his beatenness and servility. The destruction of these reactionary features must be unconditionally credited to our bourgeoisie; its progressive work consists precisely in the fact that it severed all ties of the laborer with feudal orders, with feudal traditions. Medieval forms of exploitation, which were concealed by personal relations between lord and subject, between the local kulak and trader and local peasants and artisans, between the patriarchal "humble and bearded millionaire" and his "lads," and which in consequence engendered ultra-reactionary ideas – these medieval forms it has replaced and continues to replace with the exploitation of the "European unbridled entrepreneur," with exploitation impersonal, bare, naked, covered by nothing, and thereby already destroying senseless illusions and daydreams. It destroyed the former isolation of the peasant ("settledness"), who wished not to know, and indeed could not know, anything beyond his scrap of land, and – socializing labor and enormously raising its productivity, became a force that thrust the producer onto the arena of social life.

Mr. Struve says regarding this argument of Mr. Yuzhakov: "Thus Mr. Yuzhakov documents with full clarity the Slavophile roots of Populism" (18) and below, summing up his exposition of the sociological ideas of Populism, he adds that the faith in "Russia's distinctive development" constitutes "the historical connection between Slavophilism and Populism" and that therefore the dispute between Marxists and Populists is "the natural continuation of the disagreement between Slavophilism and Westernism" (29). This latter proposition, it seems to me, requires qualification. Undoubtedly the Populists are greatly guilty of the basest kind of jingoism (Mr. Yuzhakov, for example). It is also undeniable that the ignoring of Marx's sociological method and his posing of questions concerning the immediate producers is equivalent, for those Russians who wish to represent the interests of these immediate producers, to complete alienation from Western "civilization." But the essence of Populism lies deeper: not in the doctrine of distinctiveness and not in Slavophilism, but in the representation of the interests and ideas of the Russian small producer. Therefore among the Populists there were writers (and these were the best of the Populists), who, as Mr. Struve himself acknowledged, had nothing in common with Slavophilism, who even recognized that Russia had embarked on the same path as Western Europe. With such categories as Slavophilism and Westernism, one cannot possibly understand the questions of Russian Populism. Populism reflected such a fact of Russian life, which was almost entirely absent in the epoch when Slavophilism and Westernism took shape, namely: the opposition of the interests of labor and capital. It reflected this fact through the prism of the living conditions and interests of the small producer, reflected it therefore in a deformed, cowardly manner, creating a theory that puts forth not the contradictions of social interests, but fruitless hopes for a different path of development, and our task is to correct this error of Populism, to show which social group can be the true representative of the interests of the immediate producers.

We now proceed to the second chapter of Mr. Struve's book.

The author's plan of exposition is as follows: first he points out the general considerations that compel us to regard materialism as the only correct method of social science; then he expounds the views of Marx and Engels and, finally, applies the conclusions obtained to certain phenomena of Russian life. Owing to the special importance of this chapter's subject matter, we shall attempt to analyze its content in more detail, noting all those points that call for objection.

The author begins with a perfectly correct observation that the theory reducing the social process to the actions of "living personalities" who "set themselves goals" and "move events" is the result of a misunderstanding. No one, of course, ever thought of attributing to a "social group an independent existence separate from the personalities comprising it" (31), but the point is that "the personality, as a concrete individuality, is a derivative of all personalities that have lived before and are contemporaneous with it, i.e., of the social group" (31). Let us clarify the author's thought. History is made – reasons Mr. Mikhailovsky – by the "living personality with all its thoughts and feelings." Quite correct. But by what are these "thoughts and feelings" determined? Can one seriously defend the opinion that they appear by chance rather than necessarily flowing from the given social environment, which serves as the material, the object of the personality's spiritual life and which is reflected in its "thoughts and feelings" positively or negatively, in the representation of the interests of this or that social class? And further: by what signs are we to judge the real "thoughts and feelings" of real personalities? It is clear that there can be only one such sign: the actions of these personalities – and since we are speaking only of social "thoughts and feelings," we must add further: the social actions of personalities, i.e., social facts. "By distinguishing the social group from the personality," says Mr. Struve, "we understand by the former all those multifarious interactions between personalities that arise on the soil of social life and objectify themselves in customs and law, in mores and morality, in religious representations" (32). In other words: the sociologist-materialist, making the subject of his study certain social relations of people, thereby already studies real personalities, from whose actions these relations are composed. The sociologist-subjectivist, beginning his argument ostensibly with "living personalities," in fact begins by investing these personalities with such "thoughts and feelings" as he considers rational (because, by isolating his "personalities" from a concrete social setting, he thereby deprived himself of the possibility of studying their actual thoughts and feelings), i.e., "begins with utopia," as Mr. Mikhailovsky himself had to acknowledge[190]. And since, furthermore, this sociologist's own conceptions of what is rational themselves reflect (unconsciously to himself) the given social environment, the final conclusions of his argument, which appear to him the "purest" product of "modern science and modern moral ideas," actually express only the viewpoint and interests of… petty bourgeoisie.

This last point – namely, that a special sociological theory about the role of personality or about the subjective method puts utopia in place of critical materialist investigation – is particularly important, and since Mr. Struve has passed over it, it merits some dwelling upon.

Let us take, for illustration, the current Populist argument about the artisan. The Populist describes the wretched condition of this artisan, the meagerness of his production, the abominable exploitation of him by the trader, who pockets the lion's share of the product, leaving the producer kopecks for a 16-18 hour working day – and concludes: the wretched level of production and exploitation of the artisan's labor – these are the bad sides of the given order. But the artisan is not a hired laborer; this is the good side. One should preserve the good side and eliminate the bad, and to do this, organize an artisan cooperative. Here is – the completed Populist argument.

The Marxist reasons differently. Familiarity with the condition of the trade raises in him, besides the question of whether this is good or bad, also the question of what is the organization of this trade, i.e., how and why precisely thus and not otherwise do relations between artisans in the production of a given product take shape. And he sees that this organization is commodity production, i.e., the production of isolated producers, connected with each other by the market. The product of an individual producer, intended for consumption by others, can reach the consumer and give the producer the right to receive another social product only after taking the form of money, i.e., having undergone prior social accounting both qualitative and quantitative. And this accounting is performed behind the producer's back, by means of market fluctuations. These market fluctuations, unknown to the producer, independent of him, cannot fail to engender inequality between producers, cannot fail to strengthen this inequality, ruining some and placing money – the product of social labor – in the hands of others. Hence is also clear the cause of the power of the money owner, the trader: it consists in the fact that among artisans, living day to day, at best week to week, he alone possesses money, i.e., the product of past social labor, which in his hands becomes capital, the instrument of appropriating the surplus product of other artisans. Therefore, concludes the Marxist, under such an arrangement of social economy, the expropriation of the producer and his exploitation are absolutely inevitable, the subjugation of the propertyless to the propertied is absolutely inevitable, as is the opposition of their interests, which gives content to the scientific concept of class struggle. And consequently, the producer's interest lies not at all in the reconciliation of these opposing elements, but, on the contrary, in the development of this opposition, in the development of consciousness of this opposition. We see that the growth of commodity economy leads, even in our Russia, to such a development of opposition: as the market increases and production expands, commercial capital becomes industrial. Machine industry, finally destroying small isolated production (it is already undermined to its roots by the trader), socializes labor. The system of Plusmacherei, which in artisan production is concealed by the seeming independence of the artisan and the seeming arbitrariness of the trader's power – now becomes clear and uncovered by anything. "Labor," which even in artisan trade took part in "life" only in that it granted surplus product to traders, now finally "differentiates itself from the life" of bourgeois society. This society casts it out with complete frankness, carrying to the end the principle underlying it, that the producer can obtain the means of subsistence only when he finds a money owner willing to appropriate the surplus product of his labor – and that which the artisan [and his ideologist – the Populist] could not understand – namely: the deep, class character of the aforementioned opposition – becomes of itself clear to the producer. Hence why the interests of the artisan can be represented only by this advanced producer.

Let us now compare these arguments from the side of their sociological method.

The Populist assures us that he is a realist. "Personalities make history," and I, says he, begin with the artisan's "feelings," negatively disposed toward the modern order, and with his thoughts about arranging better orders, while the Marxist speaks of some sort of necessity and inevitability; he is a mystic and a metaphysician.

Indeed, replies this mystic, personalities do make history – and I, examining the question of why the social relations in artisan trade took shape thus and not otherwise (you didn't even pose this question!), was examining precisely how "living personalities" made their history and continue to make it. And I had in my hands a reliable criterion for having to do with "living," actual personalities, with actual thoughts and feelings: this criterion consisted in the fact that their "thoughts and feelings" had already expressed themselves in actions, had created definite social relations. I, it is true, never say that "personalities make history" (because it seems to me that this is an empty phrase), but, investigating actual social relations and their actual development, I am investigating precisely the product of the activity of living personalities. While you, you speak and speak of "living personalities," but in fact you take as your starting point not a "living personality" with those "thoughts and feelings" that are actually created by the conditions of their life, by the given system of production relations, but a puppet, and you stuff its head with your own "thoughts and feelings." It is understandable that from such an occupation one gets only innocent daydreams; life remains outside you, and you – outside life[191]. And that is not all: just take a look at what you stuff into this puppet's head and what measures you preach. Recommending to the toilers a cooperative as "the path indicated by modern science and modern moral ideas," you failed to take into account one little circumstance: the entire organization of our social economy. Not understanding that this is capitalist economy, you failed to notice that on this soil all possible cooperatives will remain tiny palliatives, eliminating nothing either of the concentration of means of production, and money in particular, in the hands of the minority (this concentration is an undisputed fact), or the complete destitution of a vast mass of the population – palliatives that at best will elevate only a handful of individual artisans into the ranks of the petty bourgeoisie. From an ideologist of the toiling you become an ideologist of the petty bourgeoisie.

Let us return, however, to Mr. Struve. Having pointed out the lack of substance in the Populist arguments about "personality," he continues: "That sociology indeed always strives to reduce the elements of individuality to social sources, any attempt to explain this or that major moment of historical evolution convinces one. When it comes to the 'historical personality,' the 'great man,' there always appears a striving to represent him as the 'bearer' of the spirit of a certain epoch, the representative of his time – his actions, his successes and failures to represent as necessary results of all the preceding course of things" (32). This general tendency of every attempt to explain social phenomena, i.e., to create a social science, "found its vivid expression in the doctrine of class struggle as the fundamental process of social evolution. Once personality was removed from consideration, it was necessary to find another element. That element turned out to be the social group" (33). Mr. Struve is absolutely right in pointing out that the theory of class struggle, so to speak, completes the general tendency of sociology to reduce "the elements of individuality to social sources." More than that: the theory of class struggle is the first to carry out this tendency with such fullness and consistency as to raise sociology to the level of science. This was achieved through the materialist determination of the concept of "group." In itself this concept is still too indefinite and arbitrary: the criterion for distinguishing "groups" can be seen in religious, ethnographic, political, juridical and other phenomena. There is no firm characteristic by which in each of these areas one could distinguish this or that "group." The theory of class struggle, precisely because it accomplishes this, constitutes an enormous acquisition of social science – it establishes the procedures of this reduction of the individual to the social with the utmost precision and definiteness. First, this theory developed the concept of the socio-economic formation. Taking as its starting point the fact fundamental to all human society – the method of obtaining the means of subsistence – it established the connection with it of those relations between people that arise under the influence of given methods of obtaining the means of subsistence, and in the system of these relations ("production relations" in Marx's terminology) it pointed out the foundation of society, which is clothed in political-juridical forms and certain currents of social thought. Each such system of production relations is, according to Marx's theory, a special social organism, possessing special laws of its origin, functioning, and transition into a higher form, transformation into another social organism. By this theory was applied to social science that objective, universal scientific criterion of repeatability, the possibility of applying which to sociology the subjectivists denied. They reasoned precisely thus: that owing to the great complexity of social phenomena and their diversity, one cannot study these phenomena without separating the important from the unimportant, and for such a separation there is necessary the viewpoint of a "critically thinking" and "morally developed" personality – and they thus happily arrived at the transformation of social science into a series of sermons of petty-bourgeois morality, examples of which we saw in Mr. Mikhailovsky, philosophizing about the purposelessness of history and about a path guided by the "light of science." The root of these arguments was cut short by Marx's theory. In place of the distinction between important and unimportant was placed the distinction between the economic structure of society as content and the political and ideological form: the very concept of economic structure was precisely clarified through a refutation of the view of former economists, who saw laws of nature where there are only laws of a special, historically determined system of production relations. In place of the subjectivists' arguments about "society" in general, arguments devoid of content and not going beyond petty-bourgeois utopias (for the very possibility of generalizing the most various social orders into special kinds of social organisms had not been clarified) – was placed the investigation of definite forms of social organization. Secondly, the actions of "living personalities" within each such socio-economic formation, actions infinitely diverse and seemingly not subject to any systematization, were generalized and reduced to the actions of groups of personalities distinguished from each other by the role they played in the system of production relations, by the conditions of production and, consequently, by the conditions of their living situation, by those interests determined by this situation – in short, to the actions of classes, whose struggle determined the development of society. By this was refuted the childishly naive, purely mechanical view of history of the subjectivists, satisfied with the meaningless proposition that personalities make history, and unwilling to analyze how exactly their actions are conditioned by their social situation. In place of subjectivism was put the view of the social process as a naturally-historical process – a view, without which, of course, there could be no social science. Mr. Struve very rightly points out that "the ignoring of personality in sociology or, rather, its elimination from sociology is in essence a particular case of the striving toward scientific knowledge" (33), that "individualities" exist not only in the spiritual but also in the physical world. The whole matter is that the subsuming of "individualities" under certain general laws was accomplished long ago for the physical world, but for the social sphere it has been firmly established only by Marx's theory.

Mr. Struve's further objection against the sociological theory of Russian subjectivists consists in this, that beyond all the above arguments – "sociology in no case can regard what we call individuality as a primary fact, since the very concept of individuality (not subject to further explanation) and the corresponding fact is a result of a long social process" (36). This is a very correct thought, which merits attention all the more since the author's argumentation presents certain irregularities. He cites the views of Simmel, who, according to him, in his work "On Social Differentiation" proved the direct dependence between the development of individuality and the differentiation of the group to which this personality belongs. Mr. Struve opposes to this the proposition of Mr. Mikhailovsky concerning the reverse dependence between the development of individuality and the differentiation (or "diversity") of society. "In an undifferentiated environment," Mr. Struve argues against him, "the individual will be 'harmoniously whole'… in his uniformity and impersonality." "The real personality cannot be 'a collection of all traits inherent to the human organism in general,' simply because such fullness of content exceeds the powers of a real personality" (38–39). "In order for a personality to be differentiated, it must be in a differentiated environment" (39).

It is not clear from this exposition precisely how Simmel poses the question and how he argues it. But in Mr. Struve's presentation the posing of the question suffers from the same defect as in Mr. Mikhailovsky's. Abstract reasoning about the dependence in which the development (and well-being) of individuality stands to the differentiation of society is completely unscientific, because one cannot establish any correlation valid for all forms of social organization. The very concept of "differentiation," "diversity" etc. acquires entirely different significance depending on which social situation one applies it to. The fundamental error of Mr. Mikhailovsky lies precisely in the abstract dogmatism of his arguments, attempting to embrace "progress" in general instead of studying the concrete "progress" of some concrete social formation. When Mr. Struve advances his general propositions against Mr. Mikhailovsky (the above-cited ones), he repeats his error, retreating from the depiction and elucidation of concrete progress into the realm of hazy and unsupported dogmas. Let us take an example: "The harmonic wholeness of the individual in its content is determined by the degree of development, i.e., the differentiation of the group," says Mr. Struve and italicizes this phrase. However, what should one understand here by "differentiation" of the group? Did the abolition